


when i met you, when we started off (it sure was a different kind of love)

by dewdrops



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, SkamFicWeek, Tutoring, celibate monk au, mention of dicks but no actual dicks, not explicit in the slightest, that was a joke sorry if you read that and got excited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:35:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dewdrops/pseuds/dewdrops
Summary: "Isak," the boy says, finally making eye contact again. "Sana said you need help with physics."Even feels a smile tug the corners of his lips upwards in spite of the mention of the very thing that has been troubling him the past few days. It seems trivial with this boy wavering in his doorway, looking something akin to a frightened animal. "Yeah," he says, because although he hardly cares about it anymore, he figures it's still the truth.Isak's hands fall to his sides, fingers curling until they form fists and then uncurling. "Sana had something to do today, so she sent me.""Okay," Even says, trying to his school his expression into something a little less keen. He opens the door a little wider and stands back. "Do you want to come in?"***Or, Sana is supposed to tutor Even but can't make it due to some vague, unforeseeable events.





	when i met you, when we started off (it sure was a different kind of love)

**Author's Note:**

> a lil contribution to skam fic week for the alternative first meeting prompt. some things to clear up any confusion: everything is the same, except even decided not to transfer schools after the whole mikael fiasco. we know from even's texts in s3 that he's taken physics, and i bet he's better at it than i give him credit for in this fic (love even). this is even's first time doing his third year, meaning isak's in first year. he's missed a significant amount of class and needs help. luckily, isak is more than happy to tutor him (don't ask me how this is possible). i don't think sana and isak spoke much prior to s3, but let's pretend. nothing too serious, just some fun with magnets ft isak being shy and even being real dramatic. nothing new. title from the song "different kind of love" by martin hall.

The past half an hour had been spent ensuring Even had the assigned questions handy, the textbook opened to the correct page, and the tips of no less than three pencils sharpened to a point (one for him, one for Sana, and one extra in case either of theirs broke). There could have also been a few brief moments in between where he stared at the blank paper in front of him, jaw clenched and fingers itching for the joint he had somewhere in his bedroom. The temptation to lock himself in his room with a film he's never seen and smoke the day away garners more strength by the minute. 

The day had felt promising when he'd first opened his eyes in the morning. He guesses it still kind of does. He has a chance to be productive, get some of the of the work he missed while he was away from school done. Not without the help of Sana, of course. She is the only thing keeping him from succumbing to his admittedly self-destructive whims. Her, and the very prevalent threat of failing third year. 

It should have come as no surprise. Of course missing weeks of school would result in him falling behind in his classes; still, he couldn't help but feel dumbfounded after he sat through his fourth physics lesson back with no idea what was going on. In the span of time he'd been gone, his teacher had went from talking about the centrifugal force to magnetic flux. 

He tried to get help. Once the tendrils of despondency had unfurled themselves from around his mind enough for him to feel somewhat normal (something like his third day back), he'd stayed after class for a full twenty minutes to talk with his teacher. He'd left feeling more confused, walking late into lunch having acquired nothing more than a faint headache. 

It was only when he sank down at an empty table, crossed his arms over his textbook and contemplated resting his head on top of them did salvation come in the form of none other than Elias Bakkoush. He wasn't flanked by their usual crew, to which Even was glad. Although he was talking to them again (even Mikael), their conversations as a group were still somewhat stilted compared to what they had been before. 

Elias asked him how he was feeling, but not in the way his mom or Sonja did. It didn't sound like he already knew the answer; he was genuinely curious, eyebrows raised as he looked from the textbook to Even. 

That conversation was what lead Even to where he sits now, at his dining table, looking at the vase of yellow flowers (he thinks his mom called them something that started with a 'J', but it also could've been a 'G') that sat in the center. It's early afternoon on a Saturday, and he's waiting for Sana to arrive. He'd jumped on the opportunity when Elias presented it, knowing that despite Sana being a first year, she would help him find a way to make sense of all this. 

She has a way of doing that. Whether it was explaining the model she was constructing for her biology project in the living room of the Bakkoush household, or comforting him in the bathroom when he felt like the Earth had just gotten thrown off its axis, she always seemed to be a pillar of knowledge and understanding. 

The sound of the door startles Even from his thoughts. He scrubs a hand over his face, eyeing the blank paper in front of him. There'll be plenty of time to think about the past once he graduates. First, he has to get through magnetic fields. 

As he makes his way to the door, he thinks that there have been few times he's felt more grateful for his dad's long office hours and his mom's penchant for retail therapy than he does now. He loves them both, and he knows that they only try their best with him. He just doesn't need his mom hovering over his and Sana's shoulders, quietly suggesting that they take a break every ten minutes as though not to frustrate themselves, or his dad sitting across from them and pretending to knows exactly what they're talking about. He'll spend time with them later, once he feels somewhat confident in his ability to pass physics. Maybe he'll even call Sonja over, knowing how much his mom has missed her presence as of late, and they could all watch a movie together. 

He's still making plans in his head when he twists the door knob, a greeting for Sana ready to leave his lips. The door swings open, and the greeting dies in its tracts, along with any semblance of a coherent or rational train of thought. 

Sana's nowhere to be seen; in her place, an apprehensive looking boy with honey colored hair that falls over his forehead, curling before it reaches his eyes. His eyes. They meet Even's for what must be a few seconds before flitting to the ground, but those few seconds are enough to make him question whether he's ever really looked into anyone's eyes before now. 

The boy's all bundled up, hands in the pockets of his jacket and scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. Even looks at his slightly upturned, red-tipped nose, a certain warmth finding its way into his chest while the brisk air of late autumn finds its way into his house. If he were thinking clearly, he probably would invited the boy in and quickly shut the door behind them. Instead, he stares, eventually coming to the conclusion: "You're not Sana." 

The boy looks at him, and then back down at himself, as if this fact has just now dawned on him. "No," he says, voice muffled by his scarf. "I'm Sana's friend." His hands leave his pockets to grip the straps of the backpack that was hanging from his shoulders. Even watches them, wondering how cold they'd be if he were to touch them. How long it would take to warm them up if he took them both in his hands. "Are you Even?" 

Even nods, and then realizes the boy still isn't looking at him. "I am." 

"Isak," the boy says, finally making eye contact again. "Sana said you need help with physics." 

Even feels a smile tug the corners of his lips upwards in spite of the mention of the very thing that has troubling him the past few days. It seems trivial with this boy wavering in his doorway, looking something akin to a frightened animal. "Yeah," he says, because although he hardly cares about it anymore, he figures it's still the truth. 

Isak's hands fall to his sides, fingers curling until they form fists and then uncurling. "Sana had something to do today, so she sent me." 

"Okay," Even says, trying to his school his expression into something a little less keen. He opens the door a little wider and stands back. "Do you want to come in?" 

Once Isak's in and the door is shut, Even asks, "How is it that Sana roped you into this?" 

Isak's head is hung, and he's focused on toeing off his shoes, but Even swears he sees him roll his eyes. "I owe her for something." 

Even hums. "Very cryptic." 

Isak scoffs, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck. "It's not anything worth talking about," he murmurs. "She thinks I didn't put enough work into our biology project because I was busy the weekend before it was due." He shrugs. "Whatever." 

Even wants to tell Isak that he'd be happy to sit back and listen to the boy talk all day, regardless of what he was talking about. It would be enough to hear his lilt echoing off the walls, to watch his lips wrap around each word as they were spoken. "You don't need to do this," he says instead. 

"I don't mind," Isak says, effectively quelling Even's worries that he would actually leave. "I like physics, so it shouldn't be too bad." 

 

***

 

They've been sitting down for a total of four minutes when they arrive at their first roadblock. Isak is in first year, and seems to be thrown a little off kilter when he comes to the realization that Even's in third year. Although he clearly does recognize some of the content splayed across the textbook page Even had opened to earlier, he needs Even to give him some context on what exactly is confusing to him so they can try and figure it out together... which sounds like a great idea, when Isak says it. 

It turns out not to be so great when Even puts it into practice. He alternates between shuffling through the notes he'd hastily scrawled in the twenty minute session he had with his teacher, and admiring the way the light shining in through the window catches on Isak's hair. He's trying to articulate what it is about Lenz's law that he can't quite grasp, but he's really trying to silently figure out which colors he'd need to mix to make the green of Isak's eyes. He'd begin by mixing an olive green, and then add a little bit more blue. A couple dabs of yellow, he thinks as he watches Isak look at his notes with a crinkle between his brow. 

He eventually looks up and sighs heavily, startling Even out of his reverie. "I think it's best if we start with something simple," he says, setting the notes down. He moves the textbook so it's in front of him and begins to read, finger underlining something Even can't see from where he's sitting and doesn't care to see. Nothing else is worth looking at; not when Isak's sitting beside him, a soft looking sweater hanging off his shoulders to expose the artful curve of his collarbones. 

Isak stops reading after a few minutes, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil. "Before we calculate anything, we should get a good idea of what it is we're dealing with," he says, beginning to sketch. 

"Sure," Even says, trying to stop the fondness that bubbles within him from spilling over onto his face. He somehow feels unbelievably proud of Isak for caring about this stuff, no matter how much he wants to just forget it and pull him into his bedroom, share a joint on his window sill, and talk about what kind of music they listen to. 

Isak's drawing is rough; a long, cylinderical shape with lines coming out of both ends. Even must seize the opportunity. "Is that a dick?" 

Isak stops drawing, head snapping towards him. The look of shock that paints his face quickly morphs into something resembling incredulity as he looks back down at his drawing. "Does it look like one?" he asks. 

Even shrugs, reaching out and putting a finger one the ends of the shape. "I mean... no, not really." He traces one of the lines sprouting from the end. "But some people just can't draw, you know?" 

Isak scoffs, pulling the paper out from under Even's hand. "I can draw." His cheeks look a little rosy, and Even feels as if he just accomplished something far better than any of the problems he has to have done by Monday. 

Once Isak adds a north and south pole to what is clearly a poorly drawn magnet, he begins to talk about magnetic field vectors. He mostly keeps his eyes on the paper, making additions to his drawing every so often to illustrate a point. It was only in the brief pauses he'd make that Even would interject, causing him to look up and either shake or nod his head. When it's the latter, the satisfaction that blooms within Even feels incredible. 

They focus for a little while, working through several problems from the textbook. Isak always starts them off, drawing an awful diagram that Even tries his best not to laugh at, and then he hands the pencil off to Even so he can work his way through the equation (despite having two other sharpened pencils in front of them, they share one the entire time). 

"And this is happening in the span of six seconds," Isak says, writing a questionable number six (Even would've probably mistaken it for a eight had Isak not said anything) over top of his arrow in between two magnetic fields. "Where do we start?" 

"With Lenz's law," Even answers, waiting until he receives a curt nod and close-mouthed smile from Isak before continuing, "After we have something to eat." 

Isak seems to consider this for a moment, touching the eraser of the pencil to his lips. If it was anyone else, Even would likely chastised them for putting one of the tools he uses to make art anywhere other than paper. He doesn't, because it's Isak, and because he thinks that the pencil has never and will never serve as great a purpose as it is in that moment. 

Even's eyes move from Isak's mouth to his eyes, which are fixated on him. They don't stay like that for very long, flitting away as he puts the pencil down. "Okay." 

 

***

 

Their snack break turns into a lunch break at the same time Even asks, "Do you smoke?" as they munch on carrot sticks in the kitchen. They migrate to his bedroom, sitting beside a cracked window and sharing the joint he's been thinking about all morning. He's never been so happy to share his stuff before. As they smoke, they talk. Conversation is easier than Even thought it'd be, considering how into magnets Isak is. He's also into a lot of things Even is into, like hip hop and movies. Even doesn't hesitate in giving him hell for his taste in the latter, but he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't sit through every single one of the terrible movies Isak admits to liking just to make him happy. 

Even doesn't think he's ever felt anything similar to what he feels when Isak smiles with his teeth or laughs. He thinks of the sound washing over the walls of his room, writing its music into his bed linens. The past few months have been the hardest he's lived through, and there were times not all that long ago when he felt like this room would be the last thing he'd ever see. He's glad it wasn't; glad it's not going to be. 

He can't remember the last time he's felt this good, this relaxed. Which is weird, because he likes Isak and that should make him nervous because the last boy he liked yelled awful things at him in the bathroom of a house party. But it's different with Isak, he reminds himself. Isak, who looks away after five seconds of eye contact. Who claims to be able to rap, but still looks caught off guard when Even says, "Let's hear it, then." 

As Isak tries to rap, albeit rather badly, Even brings the joint to his lips and tries his best not to shower him in praise. Apparently, the only way he can achieve this is by mercilessly teasing him about "the nonsensical strings of words he calls bars". 

"You didn't even give me a beat." Isak sounds defensive, but he's grinning and takes the joint when Even offers it. "What am I supposed to rap to? The sound of the cars?" 

Even leans his head against the window, watching Isak smoke. "I guess that must've been what made it so bad." Isak squawks in indignation and asks him if he could do any better, to which he says, "Most people probably could, but don't feel bad about it. You know more about magnets than most people." 

There's a second where Even thinks Isak is going to push him, but then he just hands back the joint and rolls his eyes. "That's not true." He pauses, then says, "The second part's true, but not the first." 

And Even's done putting up a front, done pretending he wouldn't sit here all day and listen to Isak try to rap, so he says, "Okay." 

Isak looks a little surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He sits back, and they continue to smoke. Eventually, he says, "Do you want to get back to it?" 

Even takes the way Isak phrased the question as a sign to say what he wants to say. Isak's asking him what he feels like doing. He doesn't feel like studying electromagnetism. He wants to spend the rest of the day lazing around with Isak. He wants to learn as much as he can about him; where he's been, why he hasn't been in Even's life until now. While Even doesn't say this verbatim, he's pretty sure he gets the message across when he shakes his head. 

"We still have to talk a lot more about Faraday," Isak says, but there's hardly any conviction behind his words. 

Even shrugs. "They'll be time," he says. "Are you hungry?"

They find their way back into the kitchen shortly thereafter, and Even prepares them lunch while Isak sits and checks his phone. He laughs, making Even look up from where he's carefully cutting their sandwiches. "Sana's wondering how it went," he says. 

Even smiles as he plates their food. "What're you going to say?" 

Isak sighs. "The truth," he laments, looking up from his phone with wide eyes. "You're hopeless. You make fun of my diagrams, but I don't think you'd know what was going on if it wasn't for them." 

"What?" Even asks, grin stretched so far across his face that it'd probably be painful if he wasn't so distracted. He moves closer to Isak, leaning against the counter and looking at the phone. "Don't say that," he says. "Say 'all my diagrams look like dicks so Even doesn't understand what's going on'." 

"No, they don't." Isak groans, lowering his head until it's pressed against the screen of his phone. "The diagrams don't even matter that much. They're just there to help you solve the problem." 

Even laughs. "Do you know what I think?" He leans in closer, not waiting for a response before saying, "I think you're just saying that because you can't draw. I think the diagrams do matter." 

Isaks looks up, smiling. He's close enough that Even thinks he can individual eyelashes fanning out across his cheeks as he blinks, and he seems to realize this as his smile falters slightly and he lowers his eyes.

Even feels his heart in his chest as he watches Isak watch the floor. In the early evening light that filters in through his window, he thinks that Isak looks ethereal, like some otherworldly being who wandered in off the streets with an excessive amount of knowledge of this world (and its magnetic fields). 

His eyes trail down the slope of Isak's nose to his cupid's bow, the pencil from eariler flashing through his mind. He's never felt so jealous of an inanimate object, he thinks, having to will his hands to stay at his sides and not do anything senseless like reach out and touch without ensuring that's exactly what Isak's wants. 

This turns out not to take much effort, as his attention is swiftly directed elsewhere in the following seconds. He'd failed to hear the sound of his mom entering the house, but she had, and now she stands at the entrance of the kitchen with her arms full of shopping bags. She looks at them, but mostly at Even with her eyebrows raised.

He takes a step away from Isak, trying to reassure him with a soft smile before rushing over to help his mom with her bags. "Hey, mama." He hugs her with a free arm. 

"Hello," she says, setting the remaining bags down at her feet. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" 

It's a little uncomfortable, and Even can list at least fifty things he'd rather be doing with Isak at this very moment off the top of his head, but it goes well. Isak's so sweet, asks if she needs any help putting groceries away, and Even has to stop himself from ogling him because his mom is watching. 

Thankfully, his mom waves them off. "Don't worry about it," she says with a smile. "You two go have fun. You've been working all day if the state of the table is anything to go off of." 

With a promise to clean everything later, they pick up their food and head back to Even's room. 

When Isak takes his first bite, he chews thoughtfully for what feels like a long time. "Good?" Even asks. 

Isak nods, taking another bite. Once he's swallowed, he says, "You know, I didn't think I liked mustard." And Even's never felt more horrified than he is in the five second span it takes Isak to continue speaking. "So, I'm confused, because this sandwich is really good?" 

Even smiles, relieved. He thinks that sounds like a question, so he answers, "Maybe you're just really high." 

This seems to displease Isak, who puts his sandwich down and looks at Even with a pensive expression. "Do you think your mom knew?" 

Even shakes his head. Realistically, there's a good chance his mom had smelled it on them and he'll be hearing about it when Isak leaves, but Isak doesn't need to know that. "She definitely didn't." 

This is seemingly enough to assure Isak, who picks his sandwich back up. "She seems cool." 

"She is." He hesitates before he continues to speak, wonders if what he's about to say will scare Isak away, but ultimately decides that whatever happens if for the best. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't, though." 

While this change in the course of their conversation seems to momentarily throw Isak, he doesn't take long to say, "I know what you mean." 

Even presses the pad of his finger into the bread of his sandwich absentmindedly, searching Isak's face for further clues into his response. "You do?" he prompts. 

"Yeah." He looks away from Even, focusing on something behind his head. Even wonders if it's the mostly silly drawings he's taken to plastering to his wall. If Isak stays for long enough, maybe he'll explain the meaning behind the not-so-silly ones. "My parents have been going through a rough patch lately... and some times I think they're so focused on not ripping each other's throats out that they forget I live there." He laughs after he says this, shaking his head. 

Even's not sure what to say, not wanting to make light of the situation as if it doesn't matter but also seeing that Isak wants to play it off as no big deal. He doesn't have to think for much longer, as Isak keeps speaking after a prolonged pause. "I guess there's a lot of kids who wish their parents paid less attention to them," he says. He looks at Even, quirks an eyebrow. "The grass is always greener, right?" 

"I don't know," Even answers honestly. He wishes he slide his hand across the floor until it fit over Isak's, but he rests it on his knee instead. "Some times it seems like that." He shrugs, meeting Isak's eyes and feeling his heart inside his chest again. "Other times, it seems like the grass is pretty damn green where you are right now." 

Isak smiles. Even can't think of a place he'd rather be than right where he was, and the mere possibility of Isak returning that sentiment is enough to make him feel lightheaded.

The muse about the origin of the green grass proverb as they finish their sandwiches, and continue talking long after they're done. It's getting dark by the time Isak gets a text from his mom. "I guess she remembers me tonight," he says, and Even has never wanted to kiss someone so badly. He doesn't though, settles on offering Isak his number so they can plan when to meet up again. 

Because they are meeting up again. It isn't something they explicitly agree upon; except it kind of is, when Even enters his contact information into Isak's phone with the eggplant emoji beside his name and says, "It's a magnet, by the way." 

"Oh, my God." 

Even thinks the way Isak's cheeks turn pink in the waning light is the most beautiful thing he's seen. "You can teach me physics, and I'll teach you how to draw," he says. When Isak rolls his eyes, he laughs and holds out his hand. "Deal?" 

Isak doesn't take his hand without a groan, but that's not the point. He takes his hand, and they shake. "Deal." 

Even walks Isak to the door, making a few stops along the way. He says bye to Even's mom, who says, "Come back anytime, sweetheart," and then they come to standstill beside the dining room table. Or, Even does, but in a moment of brashness, reaches out to wrap a hand around Isak's wrist to bring him to a stop as well. 

The 'J' or 'G' flowers are already lovely, a bunch of small, vibrant yellow petals unfurled with a darker center. Even thinks of a way they could look even lovelier. He plucks one easily, shortening the stem with his fingers. 

"Even, what're you doing?"

Even doesn't answer before turning his attention to Isak and tucking the flower behind his left ear. He doesn't say anything afterwards, just observes Isak carefully. 

Isak's not meeting his eyes, instead looking at the mess of papers on the table and wringing his hands together. He looks unsure, but he's not ripping the flower out from behind his ear and pushing Even away, which must be a good sign. 

"Just a little something in return for your help until I can teach you how to draw," Even says, not taking his eyes off Isak. Isak seems to have some difficulty meeting his eyes, but he eventually does with a small smile playing across his lips. Even returns the smile ten fold, beaming and saying, "Seriously, Isak. Thanks for your help today. Without you, I still wouldn't understand..." He pauses as if he's having trouble recalling Lenz, placing a hand under his chin. "What's that law called?" 

This does the trick, getting Isak out of his head and back to Even. "Shut up," he mumbles, still smiling. 

When Isak leaves, Even watches him go. He stands outside his house, leaning against the door as he watches Isak fade into the dark. He's not sure how long he stands in the cold with a stupid smile on his face, but he eventually gets a text. 

He scrambles to get his phone out, wondering if Isak was freezing his hands just to text him or had already gotten home. He's surprised to find it's not Isak, but this doesn't wipe the smile off his face because it's almost as good. 

**Sana,** _23:08 ___

Sorry I couldn't make it today, had some things to take care of  
Isak's not as good at physics as me, but I'm sure you'll still find him helpful

__

__

Even laughs, the cold puff of air illuminated by his phone screen. He turns around to rest his forehead on the door. Thank you, Sana.

__

__

__

**Author's Note:**

> the flowers were jessamines!


End file.
